The Slytherin table stretched along the left side of the room, already packed with green and silver. Steam curled off platters of eggs, toast, and sausages.

Further down the table, Mattheo sat between Theodore and Blaise. He hadn't looked your way once. Not when you sat down. Not when you laughed at something Daphne said. Not even a glance.

He was laughing at something Blaise was saying, elbow on the table, posture loose. Easy. Like he didn't have a care in the world.

Like the last two months hadn't happened.

You watched the way his fingers toyed with the sleeve of his robe, the same way he'd done that night on the balcony when he'd told you—

Then the Great Hall doors swung open.

The noise didn't stop, not entirely, but something shifted. A ripple of attention near the entrance. Heads turning.

And then you saw her.

Aurelia Rosier walked in like she'd never left. Dark hair falling in smooth waves past her shoulders. Posture perfect. Face unreadable. She moved through the crowd with the kind of quiet confidence that made people part without thinking.

She was headed straight for the Slytherin table.

And Mattheo—

He went still.

His hand stopped moving. His shoulders tightened. For half a second, he looked almost caught off guard, like he hadn't expected her to actually show.

Then the tension bled out of him. His jaw relaxed. His posture opened.

And he smiled.

But you saw the way Mattheo looked at her. The way his gaze lingered half a beat too long.